"But if we married, we would be the happiest couple, Natsu. A perfect one."
She'd said that, all smile and wishful. I thought her eyes held the most brilliant color as they twinkled, I thought her smile was beautiful and sincere. But there was melancholy in those blue eyes.
"If we married, people will care for our children," she'd said again, "and we will live well."
She was whispering. Her voice was almost strained, as if she was praying, as if she was crying. Silver hair swept back, and I could see the faint trace of tears on her cheek. She cried easily. She'd always be the first one to cry. I couldn't say anything in this. Because God knew, and both of us knew, that it would stay as a wistful wish.
A Tale from Thelua
[8] honest feeling
"A woman I love."
He wasn't sure what made him say that. He wasn't even sure who he meant by it. There was no one in his mind when he said that, but somehow, he said it. It came out as a whisper, as if he never thought of answering her question in the first place. There was a sound of something falling and he prayed that the noise covered his whisper. And then, he silently wondered; who?
When he heard a scraping noise and turned around, he saw her standing, and without as much as excusing herself, she made her way out of the library. He could only stare as the door opened and closed with the barest sound. Something told him that he needed to go after her because there was something wrong with her silence. Ah, she heard it.
Thus, Natsu followed her after she left the library. She wasn't running, but her pace couldn't be considered as walking either. The corridor they went through was empty except for the sound of their shoes against the marble floor and the sound of rustling leaves blown by the wind. She didn't make any sign of acknowledging his presence, nor did she make any protest of being trailed by him.
He never tried to shorten the distance between them. He didn't try to call out to her either. He just let her show him the way and perhaps, then, she would talk to him. But then, he wondered; what kind of expression she was making right now? Was it impassive like the one she wore as she walked down the aisle with him? Or was it masked like how she gave the Pemberna's prince as they danced?
His wife was skilful when it came to pretend, to put up the good splendour. But around him, it was all crumbling. Never did she once smiled sweetly like the one she gave to the party guest or laugh politely when she was praised. Lucy, he realized, rarely smiled and laughed when he was around. The small smile she often gave him as she spoke philosophically didn't count. It didn't count because she looked far away when she did so.
As if she was going somewhere far away and not coming back.
When the figure before him halted, he, then, realized that they were back in the garden where he found her on the first day of the celebration party, sitting on the marble bench beneath the arch and barefoot. This time, she was, however, made no move to sit and kept her back facing him.
"Lucy," he called. "Look at me."
There was a frown and a pair of distressed eyes when she turned around. She refused to meet his gaze and her lips was shut tight. Something was off from her.
"What's wrong?"
She smiled. Natsu hated that smile. It was fake. "I'm thinking, Natsu," she said, "about your kind of 'perfect' you have in mind. And I think that I better off not knowing some things."
"I never said I want to be perfect."
Her smile faltered. "And neither do I. It's just what I pretend to be because of how they judged me. And I guess they got what they wanted."
"They?"
"The party guest, the ladies, the world." She sighed. "Sometimes I dreamed of being a commoner instead of a princess. I'll never accustomed to the responsibility."
Natsu was aware of what she was implying. He, too, once wished to be a commoner instead of a prince. He, too, felt like he could never accustom himself with the responsibility. But, of course, no one could change the fate. It was his fate that he was born as the prince and it was her fate that she was born as the princess. Their marriage, too, was just another fate that made them meet. But he never once regretted the decision.
"Did you regret this all?" he asked.
"No," her reply was quick, as if she read his mind to know what he was talking about. "I'm just wondering why don't you marry her."
"Her?"
"The woman you love."
He blinked. Who?
"You are jealous," he stated. The redness that slowly colored her face was just another proof. He smirked, then. "I can get used to this honesty. To what do I owe such jealousy from my wife?"
She sat on the bench and carefully smoothen the crease on her dress. Her long hair fell past her shoulder and Natsu couldn't help but wanting to touch them. Thus, he sat on the ground and leaned against the empty spot of the bench. His head rested on his propped hand while his free hand gently touching her hair. She had her hand rested on her lap and head tilted at his direction.
"And why would my lord think that I was jealous?"
His finger threaded through her hair. "Why, indeed?" He returned the question. "Why does my wife, who has unparalleled looks, be jealous? What kind of perfect woman can match her beauty, I wonder?"
"Oh, for God's sake," she sighed. "I'm afraid that my lord is becoming nonsensical the more I try to know him."
"Maybe I am nonsensical. Maybe I'm just deceiving you with my look."
She gasped. "Now I worry about the future of Thelua and Feliose. Is it too late to nullify this marriage?"
"Lucy, your sarcasm just gained a whole new level."
She laughed. She laughed openly for the first time. Natsu decided that he liked her laugh; like a soft tune of the windchime, like a calming lullaby in his childhood. "I hope you didn't regret marrying me, Natsu."
He gazed at the golden ring on his finger. "I did not."
"And whoever the woman is, she sure is lucky to be loved," her eyes met his, "by you."
And then, suddenly, everything made sense. The talk of romance novel was the subtle hint she laid. And then, the talk of being 'perfect'. She looked past all that she had because she was focusing on what she didn't have. Lucy wasn't jealous of the woman, whoever she was, really. Lucy was jealous of what she had.
Love.
Political marriage was a relationship based on mutual need. There was no room for such discussion regarding feelings of those involved. It wasn't included in the priority list. What important was the peaceful state between the two countries. Natsu understood it well. But it doesn't necessarily mean that we can't love.
All these times, he always seen her as a capable princess with a strong will. She was more mature than he had thought, and somewhere along that line, he forgot the fundamental thing about her. She was younger than him. She was the same as those 'young ladies' she mentioned before. Love was what she wanted.
"I have yet to capture the heart of my lord," she said after a long silence.
"I can give it to you." He could.
She laughed again. "A heart is something that needed to be win over, Natsu. And I know very well that men cannot easily forget their first love."
He sighed, "I swear my wife is the most handful woman I ever meet."
She smiled. He liked this smile. "Don't you have more important task to do instead of sitting here?"
He smirked again. "I believe that attending my upset wife is more urgent than national matter."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Natsu."
"Then, I believe action would."
He lifted himself from the ground, a hand tucked her hair behind her ears, and his onyx eyes met her brown ones. Her eyes asked a silent question. He wasn't sure if she would like the answer, but all he knew that he wanted this. Without so much as excusing himself, he kissed her cheek.